An Uncertain Alliance
by shan21
Summary: Elizabeth needs help and the only person who can give it to her is Jack. Unfortunately for her, Jack has not quite forgiven her for that whole 'killing him' thing. JE. Post-AWE.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Elizabeth needs help and the only person who can give it to her is Jack. Unfortunately for her, Jack has not quite forgiven her for killing him. JE. Post-AWE.

A/N: Hello there. This is my first PotC fic, and I hope you like it. Yes, it is Jack/Elizabeth (or will be eventually). It should be about 13 chapters when all is said and done.

I'm going AU from what happened after the credits. (Because, ew) So in this story, Elizabeth did not get pregnant at the end of AWE.

For those of you a little iffy about the ending of the movie, here is Will's curse as I now understand it (i.e. as described on Wikipedia, the source of all knowledge in my world):

_"It is a matter of some debate what happens next. According to the DVD booklet Will is now permanently bound to the Flying Dutchman except for one day every ten years. Since the writers and director were not involved in this, it may be considered apocryphal._

The writers instead have affirmed that Will will be freed from the Flying Dutchman's curse after ten years if Elizabeth is faithful to him. Since she remains faithful to him, he is freed of the curse and allowed to return to the world of the living, (as opposed to Davy Jones, who remained tied to the ship because Tia Dalma was not faithful)."

So, I've decided that I'm going with the writers, since I'll take their word over the word of a random dude who wrote the DVD insert. Plus, my heart absolutely breaks to think that Will would be stuck on the Dutchman for eternity. Therefore, in my story, Will can be freed in ten years if Elizabeth is waiting faithfully for him. 

"But wait! This story is Sparrabeth!" you cry! Indeed it is. Wait and see, friends. I've got me a plan.

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Elizabeth made her way through the filthy alleys of Tortuga, careful to avoid the stares of the vagrants, drunkards, and general malcontents she passed along the way. It was not that she worried about being discovered. Undergoing a simple haircut, binding her breasts, and adopting the loose fitting clothes of the average sailor constituted a more than adequate disguise. Her feminine voice and lack of facial hair would only lead acquaintances to the conclusion that she was a teenaged boy rather than a grown man. No, Elizabeth was only avoiding curious eyes in order to hasten her arrival at her destination.

As her boots fought for traction against the thick mud blanketing the streets, her fingers drifted unconsciously up to touch her newly shorn hair. After the death of her father and the necessary departure of her husband, she had resettled in Port Royal, and, as was custom of a proper lady, let her hair grow long once more.

Although Elizabeth would have loved nothing more than to remain at sea, it was simply unfeasible. Only the rare woman chose to make her life at sea, and it was a life that promised constant dangers—from battle, from disease, and from every man she would encounter. Elizabeth knew that if she was to free Will from an eternity at sea, she had to be waiting for him ten years from the day of his departure. A life at sea did not yield compelling odds that she would be alive to see his return. Therefore she contented herself to spend the next decade on land. That is, she _had _ planned to do this until an unfortunate but not entirely unexpected turn of events proved challenging to this arrangement.

For her first few weeks back at the Swann estate life proceeded much as it had when her father lived there, and for good reason—no one knew yet of her father's death. As his execution was secret, none of the naval soldiers who witnessed the event could make it known. The general public assumed him lost at sea and observed the customary waiting period before declaring him dead.

Now the waiting period was up and arbitration concerning the details of her father's will had begun in earnest, which was precisely what necessitated her clandestine voyage to Tortuga.

As she turned another dark corner, she saw it—The Faithful Bride. It was just as she remembered it. A chorus of laughter, shouting, and music of a debatable quality flooded out from its windows. Two men sat slumped just outside its entrance, singing considerably slurred sea shanties to one another. Another man rested with his top half hanging out the front window, a thin trickle of blood emerging from somewhere beyond his hairline. As far as Elizabeth could tell, the man had been thrown through the glass pane in a fight and left there when his opponent lost interest or passed out, the latter seeming like a better possibility.

She inhaled deeply to calm her nerves and immediately regretted doing so. The air was heavy with the stench of a few dozen unwashed pirates and lord knew what else.

Although she hoped to find the person she sought just inside the door, she was prepared to make herself comfortable in one of the many boarding houses in the city until she heard news of his ship making port. The Pearl would inevitably dock in Tortuga sometime in the coming weeks; most pirates found the city a convenient place to stock up on necessary supplies (and enjoy a little pleasurable company) between exploits.

As she set foot inside the bar, her senses were assaulted with all of the sounds, smells, and sights that would cause any honorable lady to faint straight away. Her narrowed eyes skimmed over the proceedings, searching for a familiar tricorne hat, or perhaps the glinting reflection of candlelight on trinkets braided into coarse black hair.

_Nothing_.

She sighed. Of course it could not be so easy. Rolling her eyes at her own foolishness (Why should she have gotten her hopes up in the first place?) she made her way to a patch of space that seemed less populated than the rest. Her bottom found an empty stool, but as she swung her legs around under the table, her feet met something solid.

The solid thing emitted a deep groan.

Pushing back her stool, Elizabeth peered under the table only to discover that the solid thing was, in fact, a man. She saw only the hunched back of the prone figure at her feet.

"'M not a bloody foot stool!" the solid thing said in a gruff voice.

Elizabeth froze. She knew that voice. Come to think of it, she knew those clothes. It was then that she noticed a beaten leather hat and the red bandana peeking out from beneath it.

"Jack?" she breathed, barely believing her own eyes.

The hunched figure gave a feeble stir, but did not respond further.

So she gave him a swift kick in the back.

"Jack Sparrow!" she hissed.

At this, the man in question rolled over beneath the table until his face came into view. Indeed, there was Jack, the very man she had been hoping to meet. His eyes darted about the room as his vision cleared. After a moment they came to rest on Elizabeth, and became impossibly wide.

Struggling to sit whilst remaining underneath the table, he firmly met her gaze. The top of his hat brushed the underside of the table, but he chose to slouch a bit rather than take it off.

"Captain!" he began.

She braced herself, once again, for his reproach at her failure to use his full title. However, she realized a moment later that he was simply addressing her.

"…Captain Swann. What a lovely surprise," he said with an artificial grin.

"Captain Sparrow," she nodded, acknowledging his own title only because he did the same for her. "What are you doing down there?" she asked as an afterthought.

Jack spread his arms wide, urging her to take in his surroundings.

"I'm takin' a 'oliday!" he merrily exclaimed. "Thought that much was obvious."

Elizabeth stared skeptically back at him.

"A holiday? It looks as though you've been _living_ on the floor of this bar for the last…" She paused to sniff the air before crinkling her nose in disgust. "…two months at the very least by the smell of you."

"Like I said, luv. I've been on 'oliday," he cheerfully confirmed, as if she was mad for suggesting that lying on the floor of a filthy tavern was anything _but_ a wonderful vacation.

"I think the better question is what is a respectable lady such as yourself doin' in such disreputable accommodations as these?" Jack continued, his right eyebrow elevated in a suggestive arch.

She opened her mouth to give her reply when cut her off with an excited wave of his arms.

"Wait! Let me guess," he requested.

Pinning her with a knowing look, a smug smile crept across his face he announced his prediction.

"You need me."

Elizabeth bristled at his tone. So cocky, as if she was helplessly dependent on him. Her eyes narrowed involuntarily.

"I need something_ from_ you. I don't need _you_. You are the means to an end," she said coldly.

The smug smile fell for half a second; barely noticeable at all and yet Elizabeth saw it. But instantly it was back, and Jack was crawling out from under the table and standing with only the hint of a wobble. He leaned back against the table and faced her so that now it was he who was looking down at her. She cautiously tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

"You seem to have forgotten 'ow to use your considerable charm to get what you want out of people, Lizzie," he said, as if she was a small child in need of a good scolding.

He leaned forward suddenly and she fought every instinct that was screaming at her to pull back. She managed to remain stock still as he brought his face within inches of her own, and barely held back a shiver when she realized that his eyes were focused on her lips.

"An' here I was expecting to pucker up before you'd deliver the first blow," he added.

She could feel his breath on her lips, and could no longer ignore the rapid beating of her heart. She jerked back, curling up her nose in disgust in an attempt to suggest that it was his stench that caused her retreat and not her unease at his nearness. She frowned as she watched his triumphant smile grow.

"I thought you said that once was enough," she reminded him, trying and failing to keep the note of bitterness out of her voice.

"Did I?" Jack asked rhetorically. "Ah yes, well then… what is it you need from me?"

The cocky grin slipped away for a moment and honest curiosity took its place.

"A ride."

She saw his eyebrows draw together and a dubious expression grace his face.

"A ride?" Jack repeated mockingly. "An' how did you get to Tortuga, might I ask? Swim?"

"It's easy to get a lift to Tortuga, Captain," she said, using his title in a subtle attempt at softening her request. "But there are few men who would be willing to take me where I need to go next."

From the sparkle in his eye, she could tell that she had peaked Jack's interest.

"An' where might that be, luv?" he asked indulgently, his voice soft and deceitfully casual.

"The Flying Dutchman."

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There's chapter one! We're just getting started. Please review to let me know what you think so far.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to the lovely people who reviewed! I'm unusually unsure of myself with this fic, so the reassurance was nice. Here's chapter two, in which the plot comes more fully into focus.

I also wanted to assure you all that I have a very clear picture of how this story is going to go. I know exactly how I want the plot to develop, it's just a matter of my writing it.

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"_It's easy to get a lift to Tortuga, Captain," she said, using his title in a subtle attempt at softening her request. "But there are few men who would be willing to take me where I need to go next."_

_From the sparkle in his eye, she could tell that she had peaked Jack's interest._

"_An' where might that be, luv?" he asked indulgently, his voice soft and deceitfully casual._

"_The Flying Dutchman."_

The moment was broken and the sounds of the bar came rushing back. Jack looked away, an expression of bored disappointment apparent on his face.

"Miss dear William, do you?" Jack asked indifferently.

Elizabeth was annoyed, both at Jack for his sudden loss of interest and at herself for allowing it to happen.

"Of course I miss my husband," she snapped. "But that's not the reason that I must see him."

Jack swung his head back around to face her, although he was still intent on maintaining an air of apathy.

"My father's will is being arbitrated as we speak. He would have left everything to me if he could have, but of course that isn't possible. The fortune must pass on to a male heir."

Jack raised his eyebrows in sudden clarity.

"Your husband," he surmised.

"Yes. And that wouldn't be a problem if Will could set foot on land and claim the rights to the Swann family wealth. However…"

Elizabeth allowed her voice to trail off, and Jack nodded in understanding.

"Aye. The little matter of that bothersome curse," he finished for her.

Elizabeth breezed on, getting to the heart of the matter at hand.

"But beyond all that, there is a question as to the legitimacy of my wedding. Some in Port Royal have come to doubt that I even _have _a husband."

At Jack's questioning glance she continued.

"I have, naturally, been unable to produce a husband for them to see with their own eyes, and believe it or not, I'm not confident they would take well to the explanation that Will is bound to a demonic pirate ship."

Jack smiled.

"Oh, I dunno, luv. 'Ave you tried?" he asked.

Elizabeth's only reply was a disdainful tilt of her head, and Jack continued, unabashed.

"So you want to find Will and, what? 'Ave someone paint a picture of the two of you together? Don't think that'll convince 'em, darling."

Elizabeth threw him an irritated scowl.

"No. I want to speak with Will and convince him to participate in another wedding ceremony. One on a ship at the docks of Port Royal. Then we can make up some excuse—that he's been called away on some extended errand, something that could take years."

She glanced back at him and she couldn't read the expression on his face.

"What?" she demanded.

He immediately adopted a conspiratorial smirk.

"You really want that money," he accused.

She opened her mouth to mount a defense, but was stopped when he held a grimy finger up to her lips.

"Pirate," he said in a low growl.

For the second time in so many minutes, Elizabeth found herself pulling uneasily away from Jack Sparrow. Glowering at him, she recited a terse rebuttal.

"It's a matter of survival, not greed Mister Sparrow. As much as I'd like to, you know very well that it is nearly impossible for a woman to find work—"

"Ah, but you could, darling," Jack interrupted. He threw a suggestive glance at one of the prostitutes sitting in the lap of a nearby sailor. "Although I suppose the scant occupations available might seem less than desirable."

Elizabeth blustered ahead, refusing to dignify his suggestion with a response.

"And without proof of a husband I'll soon be forced to remarry. There will be men who want to get their hands on my father's money," she noted.

"And on you, no doubt," Jack added quietly, a surreptitious smirk finding its way back onto his face.

"Charming," Elizabeth said dryly, trying to ignore the truth of his words.

"Just statin' fact, luv," Jack replied earnestly.

"Yes, well there you are. I need a ship to take me to the Dutchman. Not exactly a trip that could be made by your average merchant or naval vessel," Elizabeth pointed out.

Jack paused to consider her request. He seemed confused.

"You didn't work out some method of communicatin' with William before he went on his merry way, then?" he asked.

"And what exactly would you suggest? That I row out to sea and kill someone whenever I want to see my husband?" Elizabeth snapped.

"Wouldn't put it past you," Jack muttered under his breath. When he saw Elizabeth about to craft a suitable retort, he held up his hands in surrender.

"No need to get testy, Lizzie. I'm just surprised your boy doesn't drop in now and again, just to keep an eye on you. After all, it's not as though your affections 'ave never wandered," Jack said.

She knew that he was only trying to provoke her into forming some incensed denial that she had ever faltered in her devotion to Will, especially not because of some imprudent thought about a pirate. But what stung her more than Jack's provocative accusation was his pointing out Will's failure to visit.

The truth was that she had no way of getting news to Will. She could think of only two ways to meet with him. Either he had to seek her out, or she would have to sail back to world's end and track him down. And, as much as it pained her to admit it, Will did not deem it necessary to seek her out, leaving her with only her second option.

"Well, I imagine he's a bit busy shepherding lost souls on to the next life. It's not as though Davy Jones was making house calls to see old chums, was he?" she retorted defensively.

Then he voiced her biggest fear.

"Or _maybe_ it's less a case of your doting husband being bound to fulfill a tragic duty and more a case of him finding out that he enjoys the freedom of sailing all over the world without having to check in on anybody."

Jack was either a bit off his game or drunker than she expected, because he did not anticipate the slap that she delivered. She struck out so sharply that her hand hummed with the reverberations of flesh meeting flesh in the minutes after she delivered the blow.

"Will loves me," she asserted in a low, dangerous voice. "And in ten years when he can set foot on land, I will be waiting for him, faithful as ever, to free him from his bonds."

She elevated her chin in a haughty show of confidence, which Jack missed, as he had turned his head to the side to massage his injured cheek.

"I will be there," she repeated. "Will is not going to become another Davy Jones."

Jack finally turned back to her, and there was no hint of a smile left on his face, only grim determination.

"Well then, you need a ride so that you can secure your livelihood and avoid remarriage. That's all well and good, but what do you I get out of all this?" he asked.

Elizabeth had been waiting for this question. Honestly, she was surprised that his demand had not come sooner.

"You shall receive a portion of what my father left to Will and myself," she said vaguely, knowing that this response would not suffice.

"A portion. Hmm…"

He stroked his beard in mock-contemplation.

"That's a bit of a dodgy measure to use. Perhaps you can cite a more precise figure for me to toss around the ol' noggin'," he suggested.

Elizabeth pursed her lips before delivering her first bid.

"Ten percent," she offered.

Jack laughed. It wasn't a completely unexpected response, and Elizabeth was prepared to bargain.

"Fine then," she said curtly. "Name your counter offer."

"No counter offer, luv. Just a final offer," he said bluntly, his laughter disappearing just as quickly as it began.

Elizabeth was taken aback by the sudden shift.

"Well then, what is it?" she asked.

"I'll take no less then two-thirds share," he stated firmly.

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to laugh. A scoffing sort of chortle escaped her lips unbidden, and she scanned his face, looking for some sign that we was joking.

"You want to leave me with only a third of my family's money? You can't be serious," she accused.

"Remember, captain 'as to split his spoils with the crew, whereas you'll be splittin' your share with no one," Jack said pointedly. "Besides, without me, you'd be getting _no_ thirds, so I'd say you should probably take the deal," he continued, calmly examining his fingernails.

Elizabeth gaped at him.

"Half," she said. "I'll give you half."

Jack smiled serenely.

"Two-thirds, luv. Or nothing at all. Your choice."

While she was turning the offer over in her mind, he pushed himself off the table and wandered out of sight. It took her a second to realize that he had continued moving and was headed straight out the door of the bar.

Digging her fingernails into her palms, she made what she was fairly certain was a horrible decision.

"Jack, wait!" she called out, racing out of the Faithful Bride.

However when she exited the bar, she saw no trace of him. It was as though he'd vanished.

"So, we have an accord?" said a voice.

Elizabeth spun around to find Jack Sparrow leaning leisurely against the doorframe of the Faithful Bride. Apparently he'd only stepped one foot outside the door before settling back, just waiting for her to run after him.

Screwing up whatever pride she could muster, Elizabeth nodded sharply.

"We would do well to put the terms of our momentous agreement in writing, don't you think?" Jack asked, pleasantly. "I have a room down the street with the necessary materials."

Jack offered his arm in a jovial manner, and Elizabeth almost took it before remembering her state of dress.

"It might look a bit strange to see a couple of seamen strolling down the street arm in arm, don't you think, Captain?" Elizabeth pointed out.

"Not as odd as you might believe, luv," Jack said enigmatically. "But as you wish." he added, leaving a stunned Miss Swann frozen to the spot for half a moment.

Soon she was running after him again. They did not speak again until they reached his boarding house, a seedy looking residence that looked only slightly cleaner than the floor of the Faithful Bride. Ignoring her quiet protestation, Jack grabbed Elizabeth's hand as they made for the stairs up to his room. Only inside, with the door close did he release her. He immediately busied himself with a rucksack pulled from beneath his bed, and after a few seconds produced a bit of parchment and a quill.

"Right then!" he said, taking a seat on the bed. He straightened out his arm with an exaggerated flourish and began to write.

"In return for passage to—"

"_Safe _passage," Elizabeth interjected.

Jack eyed her in mild agitation before hurriedly crossing out his previous word.

"In return for _safe_ passage," he continued. "To the legendary Flying Dutchman, one Elizabeth Turner, formerly Swann, shall bequeath unto the _infamous_ Captain Jack Sparrow—"

Jack broke off when he heard Elizabeth's irritated sigh, waiting for her to adopt a neutral expression before continuing.

"Shall bequeath unto the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow two-thirds of all money and prizes she shall receive via her husband from her father's last will and testament."

Elizabeth sighed again, and when Jack glanced at her, she threw up her hands in impatience.

"Well, let's get on with it! Let me sign," she demanded.

"And furthermore," Jack continued to dictate, ignoring Elizabeth as he continued to write.

"Furthermore? There is no furthermore, Captain. I did not agree to any additional terms," Elizabeth protested.

"And furthermore," Jack went on, neglecting to acknowledge her protest. "The aforementioned Mrs. Turner agrees to bind herself to Captain Sparrow until they set foot on his ship, the illustrious Black Pearl, and to follow his orders as a crewmate obeys his captain, until they arrive at the aforementioned Dutchman."

"What?!" Elizabeth balked. "What's this nonsense about _binding_ myself to you? What are you playing at, Jack?"

Jack calmly waited for her ire to settle before making his reply.

"Merely acknowledgin' the dangers facing any young miss who finds herself alone in Tortuga, 'Lizbeth. I think it only fitting that you keep close to me before our voyage in order to secure your safety," Jack illuminated.

Elizabeth could hardly contain her outrage.

"In case you assumed that I dropped clean out of the sky and landed on that barstool, I'll clarify for you: I have, in fact, been wandering about the city this whole day and managed to avoid any peril to my _delicate personage_," she finished with spite.

"Aye, lucky that," Jack commented matter-of-factly.

"Lucky? I'm perfectly capable of providing for my own safety, you patronizing idiot!" Elizabeth shouted.

"Humor me then, luv," Jack breezed, unconcerned about her insult. "Just until we get to me ship, stay close."

His eyes found hers and she saw no condescension or teasing in them. He seemed so genuine, so frankly concerned, that she found herself conceding. After all, they would be disembarking in the morning. Surely she could spend one night in his company without suffering too much.

"And as for the matter of _obeying you as one of your crew_, I can promise that I will show you the same manner of respect that Anamaria did."

He peered at her through narrowed eyes for a moment, as if trying to determine just how far he could push his luck. Then, apparently deeming the answer to be 'not very far,' he acquiesced.

"Aye, that'll do. 'The undersigned do hereby agree with the above conditions,'" he dictated as he wrote.

Then, grandly brandishing the quill, he signed his name in a surprisingly elegant scroll. Truth be told, Elizabeth was surprised to see that he could read and write at all, let alone create a decently composed contract.

He held out the quill to her, and she quickly added her name beneath his, eager to get it over with before she had time to come to consider too deeply the consequences that were sure to result from their hasty alliance.

"Excellent," Jack declared.

The ink barely had time to dry before jack had spirited it away, tucking it into the rucksack.

"Now then, to bed," Jack said.

Before Elizabeth could respond, Jack was slipping out of his jacket and boots. To her great relief, he undressed no further. She knew, of course, that pirates slept in their clothes in order to remain ever ready should they be called out of bed in an emergency. Apparently the act had become habit for him even on land.

As she turned for the door, Jack stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"What?" she asked impatiently.

"Where are you headin' off to, luv?" he questioned.

"I'm going to purchase a room for the night," she explained curtly.

Jack smiled.

"Don't think so, Lizzie. You'll be staying here for the night," he countered.

She frowned.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Pardon granted," he quipped. "I believe, dear Elizabeth, that you are bound to me until we make it aboard the Pearl."

Elizabeth regarded him with disbelief.

"Surely as long as I'm in the same building—"

"Won't do, luv. I don't want you out of my sight," Jack interrupted.

"Now really, Jack. Your concern for my wellbeing is getting to be a bit ridiculous. I'll be fine," she argued.

"All the same, you agreed to follow me orders and I say stay," he said firmly.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, gliding past Jack to focus on the small cot behind him. She felt her blood start to boil as she guessed at Jack's motives for his additional stipulations in their agreement.

"If you're expecting me to share your bed, you've finally lost it, Jack," Elizabeth said harshly.

At her insult, Jack tightened his grip on her arm. Elizabeth tensed, but felt relatively certain that he would not harm her. Nevertheless, when he took a step forward, bringing him impossibly closer, she took an unconscious step away and felt her back hit the door.

He leaned in and smiled, his gold teeth shining by the candlelight that filled the room. There was nothing that put her quite as ill at ease as that smile of his. Finally, he spoke.

"Hardly, darling," he assured her. "I'm none too keen on the idea of sharin' a bed the girl who managed to kill me."

Elizabeth made to respond, but he pulled away suddenly and continued to speak.

"I'll be taking the bed. You can enjoy the luxury of the floor."

He gestured toward a far corner of the room, his eyes daring her to contradict him. Straightening herself up, Elizabeth determinedly met his gaze and nodded. She crossed the room and settled herself on the floor with a defiant plop. Jack smiled triumphantly, and Elizabeth ignored him by turning away to face the wall.

She heard the cot creak as he settled his weight onto it, and when he blew out the candle by his bed they were both immersed in darkness. Almost immediately his snores filled the room, and it was a long while before Elizabeth drifted off herself.

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End notes: In the next chapter, Elizabeth runs into an old acquaintance who tells her that Jack has been hiding something from her. And she's none too happy about it.

Also, scientists at Cornell recently published the results of a double-blind clinical study that shows beyond all shadow of a doubt that people who leave reviews tend to have both higher IQs and higher levels of awesome.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Here's chapter three. Sorry it took a while. It turned out about… oh, twice as long as I intended. But hey, I like long chapters. Hope you do too!

The ship's articles in this chapter are based on excerpts from a couple of real documents from the 18th century. That's right, folks. I actually did a bit of research for this chapter.

Thanks to those of you who reviewed the first two chapters. Please keep it up! Also, I'm still looking for a beta reader. It's getting to be too much for me to check everything over. I'm bound to miss some of my mistakes. PM me or let me know in a review if you're willing to give me a hand :)

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She was lying on some distant shore, completely alone, when a sudden and powerful breeze disturbed the palm trees. She watched curiously as their expansive fronds shook and quivered in the wind. Then, instead of passing as most breezes do, the wind lingered and gathered force. Miniature cyclones of sand rose all around her and whipped up tiny pieces of earth to sting her arms and legs. Yet she did not move. The sky and earth themselves were trying to push her out, but she remained.

Then the water started.

She watched, entranced, as the ocean disappeared, it's foamy edges receding rapidly to reveal a damp bed of sand. Seaweed ceased its aquatic dance and lay limp on the ground. Fish marooned by the runaway water wriggled helplessly on the barren shore.

Elizabeth frowned. Where had the water gone?

Then she saw it.

In the distance, an enormous wave. Her eyes widened in terror as she saw the tower of water rush forth, a unstoppable colossus. She knew she could not run, so she shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, awaiting the inevitable impact.

BAM

Her eyes popped open. The force had hit, and yet she wasn't wet.

"Come on, Mrs. Turner. Time to catch our ship."

_Jack_.

Of course, she wasn't on a beach. She was on the floor of a small, dirty inn. And it wasn't a tidal wave that struck her. It was Jack Sparrow.

"I'm sorry, but did you just _kick me_?" she asked him angrily as she sat up.

He stood above her, his boots and jacket on, rucksack over his shoulder.

"Apology accepted, and I _nudged_ you," he corrected her.

"With your _foot_," she accused.

"Unless I'm mistaken, you woke me last night in much the same way," he pointed out, amused.

Elizabeth's face screwed up in outrage.

"You were under a table in a disgusting pub! I was sleeping," she protested.

"Just repaying the favor, luv," Jack cheerfully replied.

Elizabeth drew herself up to her feet, and glared in his direction.

"Are you really that immature? Is that the law that directs your moral compass? An eye for an eye?" she asked.

Jack paused to consider her question before pinning her with an uncharacteristically serious look. He took three brisk steps toward her and spoke.

"You'd better hope not, darling. Otherwise I'll 'ave to be killin' you, won't I?" he asked.

Elizabeth was taken aback by his tone. She searched his face for any sign of jest, but found none. A cold feeling sunk into her skin.

Of course she hadn't expected Jack to greet her like an old friend when she tracked him down, but she had underestimated how angry he remained about her sacrificing him to the Kraken. For half a second she felt a real twinge of fear in his presence, something that she had not felt since their first meeting when he pulled the chains of his handcuffs tightly across her neck.

Jack seemed to recognize her sudden unease, because he quickly drew back and adopted a casual tone.

"Not to worry, Lizzie. Ol' Jack won't off you unless he absolutely has to. You're far more useful alive than you are dead," he reassured her.

She couldn't tell if he'd phrased his remark that way on purpose. Rather than having a calming effect, it left her as unsure as ever since there was an implication that she was at least somewhat useful to him dead.

_Well, I'm not helpless_, Elizabeth chided herself.

She thought of the knife concealed in her boot and the pistol beneath her vest and felt comforted. She would remain on her guard, and if Jack tried anything funny, she would be ready.

"Just remember our agreement, Jack," she said pointedly. "_Safe_ passage. That's what you promised."

"Aye," Jack acknowledged. "That I did. And you would do well to remember your end of our bargain and stick wi' me until we're on the Pearl."

And with that, he exited the room. Elizabeth stared after him for a moment before she realized that she was expected to follow. Having slept in her coat and boots, she was able to leave without delay, albeit a little put out at Jack's abrupt departure.

Neither of them spoke until the harbor spread out before them. At the sight of row after row of ships, Elizabeth felt her heart jump. She would soon be on her way to Will. Without realizing it, she had begun to smile.

"What's got you so cheerful all of a sudden?" Jack asked.

When she met his gaze she saw him looking wary. Of course, he'd had yet to see her truly smile since their reunion. It was then that Elizabeth felt a small tug of regret. Jack didn't have to help her. In fact, common sense would tell him not to.

True, he was doing it for the money, not out of any sense of friendship, but she was sure he could easily have found some other treasure-seeking venture without taking her case. There had to be something besides the money that convinced him into helping her, and whatever the reason, she was grateful.

"Jack," she said quietly.

He continued to stare cautiously in her direction. Steeling herself, Elizabeth swallowed her pride and spoke.

"I just wanted to say thank you. I couldn't do this without you."

Jack reeled back slightly and then looked away, at anything but her. His eyes darted agitatedly from ship to ship and he continued to avoid her eyes when he replied.

"Likewise, Mrs. Turner," he said hastily, picking up his pace.

Elizabeth hurried to keep up with him, wondering vaguely at what exactly he meant by his reply. However, she had learned long ago not to try too hard to make sense of Jack's mutterings, and soon gave up in favor of scanning the water for familiar black sails.

"So where is the Pearl docked?" she asked as they finally reached the edge of the port.

"In due time, luv," Jack said distractedly, craning his neck to glance down the pier. "Wait here. I have a small errand to run."

Before she had a chance to object, he was gone, melding in with the bustling crowd at port. Sighing, Elizabeth contented herself with staying put and observing the people moving through the crowd. However, when ten minutes had passed with no sign of Jack, she lost interest in people watching.

"Bloody, pirate," she muttered, shifting uncomfortably in her boots.

Her mind began to wander. She wondered what Will was doing at this very moment. Besides shepherding the dead, of course. She wondered if he'd changed. If he thought of her as often as she thought of him. If he regretted never having a proper wedding night. She wondered why he hadn't come to see her. If life at sea was either too exhilarating or too horrifying to make returning a visit seem appealing (and she hated herself for considering the latter a more preferable possibility).

In short, she pondered the same things she'd been pondering daily for the last several months.

So caught up in her own thoughts was she that she failed to notice a familiar figure approach. Indeed, the familiar figure failed to see her either, and the two collided.

"Pardon!" Elizabeth called out.

"Watch it!" the figure responded.

Elizabeth spun around, prepared to deliver a scathing retort to the ill-mannered passerby. However, when she turned around, she gasped.

"Anamaria?" she said incredulously.

The pirate frowned, peering at what she assumed was a young man. After scanning Elizabeth's face, however, a look of recognition settled on her features.

"Miss Swann," she replied.

Anamaria looked as strong and proud as ever. She was still eyeing Elizabeth in an appraising manner, her gaze neither friendly nor unfriendly.

"Actually, it's Turner now," Elizabeth supplied.

"Aye?" Anamaria responded, a smile gracing her lips. "How 'bout tha'? Where's the boy at?"

The smile immediately fell from Elizabeth's face as she struggled to form a coherent reply. Seeing her difficulty, Anamaria frowned.

"So it's true," the pirate said solemnly. "I 'eard tell of an 'orrible curse befalling Bootstrap's lad, but I 'oped it was rubbish."

"Yes, well…" Elizabeth paused, unable to invent an adequate response. "Are you sailing with the Pearl again?" she asked finally.

The other woman laughed.

"No. Got me own ship now," she said proudly.

"Don't tell me Jack finally made good on his word?" Elizabeth replied skeptically.

"Tha' lyin' sack o' pigs' guts? Hardly. I joined a different crew. When the captain became unpopular, I put meself up as a replacement," she explained.

Elizabeth knew that it was common for pirates to turn on a captain who failed to succeed in battle or to deliver spoils. In such a case it was rather commonplace for the crew to vote in a new captain. Elizabeth was only surprised that the crew of Ana's ship had voted a woman to take the helm considering the unfounded suspicions sailors had about women at sea.

"Congratulations," Elizabeth said earnestly.

"Thankee miss. Although I can't say I'd mind bein' on the Pearl righ' now. Last I 'eard Barbossa was on 'is way to a treasure more valuable than any Aztec gold."

Elizabeth frowned again.

"Well, wherever the Pearl _was_ going, I'm afraid her course has been changed. Jack and I have an agreement."

Anamaria shot her a perplexed look.

"Whatever you an' Jack agreed on won't have much effect on where the Pearl goes though, will it?" the pirate replied mysteriously.

"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth started. "Jack and I are departing on the Pearl today. Surely he can discuss the change in route with his crew."

Anamaria's lips curled up into a confused smirk.

"An' 'ow were you planning on doin' that?" she asked. "Because last I 'eard the Pearl was halfway to Florida."

"Sorry?" Elizabeth asked faintly.

"He didn't tell you?" Ana asked, peering suspiciously at Elizabeth.

At Elizabeth's blank stare, Anamaria laughed once more.

"O' course he didn't," she said dryly.

"Tell me what?" Elizabeth demanded, a horrible sense of foreboding flooding her senses.

"Mutiny, Mrs. Turner," Anamaria declared. "Barbossa an' crew left Jack 'ere weeks ago to go in search of the famed Fountain o' Youth."

For a moment Elizabeth felt sure she was still dreaming. She was asleep on the floor in that horrid inn, and any second now Jack was going to kick her awake. But of course she knew that this was no dream. It certainly wasn't difficult to believe that Barbossa had led another mutiny, and it was just like Jack to lie about something like this.

"I'm going to kill him," Elizabeth announced determinedly.

Anamaria laughed once more, and Elizabeth immediately pulled her pistol from her vest.

"I mean it Ana. I am going to _kill_ that pirate!" she shouted.

Ana gave her a commiserating smile and placed a surprisingly gentle hand over Elizabeth's. She lowered the pistol, and Elizabeth begrudgingly tucked it back beneath her coat.

"If you wan' to be killin' 'im, it's best to take 'im by surprise, lass. No sense in brandishin' your weapon about like a madwoman," she said sagely.

"Besides," she added. "Didn't you kill him once already? Or are the rumors just that?"

Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow hot.

"No, they're true," she said quietly.

"Wha' happened?" Anamaria asked.

There was a brief pause as Elizabeth considered how to best respond.

"It didn't take," she replied curtly.

Ana took this reply as a perfectly suitable explanation. She nodded.

"Aye, well before you go an' make sure it sticks this time, couldja help me with somethin'?"

Her mind occupied with murderous thoughts, Elizabeth nodded absently and found herself being led down the docks.

"Gotta round up a crew. We're settin' sail today and might need to make a few changes to the ship's articles," Anamaria chatted pleasantly.

About thirty yards down the docks, they came upon Ana's vessel. It was a small but handsome ship made of a light wood that seemed to attract light. It gleamed in the morning sun, rays bouncing off its sides and reflecting off the ocean's surface. Elizabeth was about to comment on its beauty when she noticed a crowd of dirty looking men huddled about the ship's bow.

There were all manner of disreputable looking riffraff present. Elizabeth saw one man whose face was covered in swirling black tattoos. The man directly in front of her had a scar running all the way up from his fingertips to his bicep. At his bicep the scar dipped beneath his sleeve and another scar (although Elizabeth was inclined to believe that it was the same one) peaked out from the neck of his shirt and continued up the side of his face. A third man stood to the far right of the group and wore a straw hat so comically oversized that it blocked not only most of his face, but also the faces of the two men standing behind him.

"All right you lot! Settle down! 'Ere are the articles," Anamaria called, producing a piece of parchment. "They're short an' sweet, boys. 'F we all agree, we'll sign without delay. 'F there are objections, this fine lad'll make the necessary changes."

She gestured to Elizabeth, who appreciated Ana's efforts to help maintain her cover as a young man. She thrust the parchment and a quill at Elizabeth expectantly.

"Can't read or write, ye see," she explained without a trace of embarrassment. "If you'll just read them out then."

Elizabeth nodded and spread the parchment out in front of her.

"First and foremost," she read. "If at any time we meet with a woman, that man that offers to meddle with her, without her consent, shall suffer present death."

A loud chorus of groans rang out from the crowd, and Anamaria's voice rose above the ruckus at once.

"That one," she shouted. "Is not negotiable."

The crew continued to grumble, albeit more quietly, and Elizabeth read on.

"Second," she called out. "The Captain shall have two full shares of all prizes; the Master one and a half shares; the Doctor, Carpenter, and Boatswain one and a quarter shares; and all other mates one share."

There were more unintelligible grumblings from the group, until finally the man in the large straw hat spoke out clearly. Well, somewhat clearly. His slurring cadence suggested that he had already been partaking in rum that day.

"Seems a bit uneven to me!" he shouted.

A chorus of "Aye!"s rang out in agreement. To Elizabeth's surprise, Anamaria did not argue with the men.

"Aye, then let it stand that the Captain and Master shall receive one and a half shares; and all other mates receive one and a quarter," she ordered.

Elizabeth made the appropriate changes to the document before continuing to read.

"Third," she announced. "Any man who shall keep a secret of significance from the crew shall be dealt with in a manner decided by a majority vote."

There was another low rumble from the crowd, but no one voiced an outright objection.

"Fourth, and finally," Elizabeth called. "If any man shall decide to betray the crew, or kill a fellow crewman without express permission of the majority, he shall be marooned, with one small arm and shot."

An eerie silence followed her last statement. After a moment, a few of the pirates nodded resolutely. It seemed to Elizabeth that all present agreed this was a grim but necessary addition to any ship's code.

Well, almost all present.

"Now, that seems a bit extreme, doesn't it?" the pirate in the straw hat called out.

About thirty heads simultaneously turned toward him. He tilted his head lower in response, obscuring his face entirely. Elizabeth watched the man take a hesitant step backward. He wobbled a moment before righting himself with a frantic wave of his arm. As his left hand hit the light, she noticed a scrap of old lace tied around it.

And finally it struck her.

"Jack Sparrow!"

She thrust the ship's articles blindly at Anamaria and stormed over to the pirate in the straw hat, who was now scrambling backward in an attempt to conceal himself behind a burly man with no front teeth.

Elizabeth reached him before he could make it, snatching the hat even as he pulled away. And then there he was, smiling at her with those gold teeth glinting in the sun, not even bothering to look abashed now that he'd been caught. Elizabeth was exasperated but not surprised to see that he'd been wearing his own leather hat beneath the straw hat, which explained why the latter hat was so large.

"_This_ was your small errand?" Elizabeth shouted.

Jack tilted his head back and continued to smile indulgently, as if waiting for the tantrum of a small child to subside. Elizabeth's eyes flashed red, and Anamaria must have sensed that a serious confrontation was about to take place because she quickly redirected the interests of the few dozen men watching them with rapt attention.

"Right men, if you agree to the articles, sign your name along the perimeter," Anamaria bellowed.

The huddle of curious pirates reluctantly tore their eyes from the scene about to unfold between Jack Sparrow and the unknown young man, and Jack was left alone to face the wrath of a very disgruntled Elizabeth.

"Why, I wonder, should you need to join another captain's crew, Jack?" she asked, her voice dangerously sweet.

"Funny story," Jack began, taking another step backward.

Elizabeth stepped forward. When Jack opened his mouth to spout a story, all lies and clever spinning of the truth no doubt, Elizabeth cut him off.

"What a coincidence. You have a story?" she started. "Anamaria's just told me a very interesting story about the Pearl!"

Jack smile dropped for a fraction of a second before it reappeared, more exaggerated than before.

"Did she now? How enchanting. I should love to hear it sometime. For now though, I wonder if you wouldn't mind joining me in signing that delightful document in Ana's hand."

Jack gestured back toward Anamaria, who was overseeing the signing of her ship's code.

"Oh but, I would very much love to tell the tale at once," Elizabeth continued undeterred.

Jack seemed to finally concede that he would have to deal with the brunt of Elizabeth's anger before any of his plans could move forward.

"Very well," he said. "Oh! But can you change your voice when you speak for different characters? I do love that."

The grin was back, cocky as ever. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face, although she managed to resist.

"You neglected to mention that you were _once again_ marooned by your crew, Captain," she accused.

"Did I? Must've slipped me mind," Jack replied flippantly.

At this, Elizabeth lost any remaining semblance of composure.

"Well that's bloody wonderful, Jack," she exclaimed. "Just beautiful. How are we supposed to find Will? Why did you even sign the contract if you knew you couldn't take me?"

"Ah, but I can take you, Lizzie. I just need to retrieve the Pearl first," Jack corrected.

At his continued calmness, Elizabeth threw her hands up into the air.

"Just need to find the Pearl," she imitated before pinning him with a fiery glance. "She's halfway to bloody Florida! How do you plan on catching her?"

"I sincerely doubt that she's nearly as far along as tha'," Jack revealed confidently.

"And why is that?" Elizabeth asked skeptically.

Jack smiled.

"Because if I know Barbossa, and unfortunately I do, then he won't be able to resist the opportunity to attack any and every ship he passes by. He'll be making half time, if not less than that. Which means the Pearl can still be caught before it reaches its destination."

"And just how do you plan on getting to it on Anamaria's ship?" Elizabeth asked.

"Don't you worry your pretty little 'ead about tha' one, Lizzie. Jack's got it all figured out," Jack replied proudly.

"Well how excellent for you!" Elizabeth said sarcastically. "You can have a grand old time working your miracle. _I_ on the other hand, am going back to Port Royal. I'll find some other way to get word to Will," she announced.

She started off in the opposite direction, determined to find the first merchant ship that could take her back home. Jack, however, had other plans. He scurried around her until he stood directly in her path. When she shifted to move around him, he shifted as well, holding out his hands and taking in a deep breath.

She braced herself for another longwinded backpedaling speech.

"Firstly," he began, and she was irritated to hear a note of superiority in his voice. This would be no desperate plea. "There is no other way to get word to William and you very well know that otherwise you wouldn'tve gone to all the trouble to track me down. I know I'm not exactly your favorite person, Lizzie," he intimated, as if this was a well-kept secret.

She frowned deeply, brushing past him. Who cared if he was right? She was not so desperate or helpless that she was willing to hang around with Jack whilst he fumbled his way back to the Pearl.

Suddenly he was in her path again, holding up a single finger in a request for her attention.

"And secondly, you won't be going anywhere," he said firmly.

Elizabeth fought the urge to laugh.

"Oh, no? Tell me Jack, why would I stay with you?"

It was just the question he was hoping for, apparently, because that cocksure grin was back.

"Why, because you gave your word o' course!" Jack answered cheerfully.

And with that, he produced their agreement from his rucksack. Elizabeth's eyes grew to the size of saucers as she realized what she had signed. Jack exaggeratedly cleared his throat and began to read.

"_And furthermore, the aforementioned Mrs. Turner agrees to bind herself to Captain Sparrow until they set foot on his ship, the illustrious Black Pearl,_" he recited.

For a moment Elizabeth could do nothing but open and shut her mouth as she tried and failed to come up with a suitable reply.

"Careful luv, that's a good way to catch flies," Jack taunted jovially.

As Jack was rolling up the contract and stowing it safely away in his rucksack, Elizabeth finally found her voice.

"You foul, wretched, deceitful—"

"Pirate?" Jack happily offered.

"Why do you even want me to tag along while you recover your ship? Wouldn't it be easier to do it on your own?" she demanded.

Jack gave her his most innocent look, which incidentally failed to look very innocent at all. A horrible thought occurred to Elizabeth.

"Am I to be used as leverage?" she asked incredulously.

"_Used_ is such an ugly word," Jack replied. Then he grinned cheekily and added, "I quite like it."

Elizabeth ignored his taunt and thought for a moment. Suddenly it was all too obvious what leverage she had to offer.

"You're going to use the two-thirds share of my father's will to win the Pearl's crew back," she stated.

Jack shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, they're far more likely to make me captain again if I have somethin' gold an' shiny to offer 'em, don't you agree?"

His casual sarcasm got on her last nerve.

"You've been planning this from the second you saw me last night! You purposefully tricked me!" she accused.

"You seem surprised," Jack commented curiously. "Honestly, Lizzie, it's like you don't know me at all. I'm hurt."

Elizabeth gritted her teeth but her anger was so complete that she could scarcely come up with a response. He lied to her. He made her think the Pearl was ready and waiting to take her to Will and now she'd have to wait lord only knew how long for the mere _possibility_ that Jack would manage to steal his ship back from Barbossa.

"And besides," Jack continued, oblivious to Elizabeth's inner tirade against him. "It's not just your money that you're good for. You're worth a lot more than the sum of your father's will."

At this, Elizabeth stopped short.

"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

Jack seemed to realize that he'd said too much, for he smiled and patted Elizabeth's shoulder patronizingly.

"Not to worry, Mrs. Turner. All you have to do is stick around for the ride. I'll get you to dear William. It will just take a bit longer than you initially anticipated."

Elizabeth slapped his hand away and reached up to do the same to his face. Jack was ready this time, however, and he stilled her approaching palm with ease.

"Have you got anything better to do in the meantime?" he demanded. "Would you prefer tha' I come by an' pick you up in Port Royal once I've got the Pearl? I'm sure that there'll be plenty of fine upstandin' gents lined up at home to woo you."

Elizabeth recognized the truth of his words, but refused to give him the satisfaction of telling him this. She settled for merely glaring at him and roughly pulling her hand out of his grasp.

"Besides, luv. You owe me," Jack added.

Of _course_ he would hold this over her head. She was waiting for this.

"Are you never going to let me live that down?" she protested.

Jack stared at her incredulously.

"You _did_ kill me," he pointed out.

"One time!" Elizabeth defended weakly. "And it's not like I didn't help bring you back!"

Jack's face grew dark.

"That doesn't negate the time I spent in Davy Jones's locker, Mrs. Turner," he said grimly.

Elizabeth was once more thrown off guard by the serious tone in his voice. She never learned what Jack had to endure alone in Davy Jones's locker. She felt a twinge of guilt.

Begrudgingly, she considered the possibility that Jack's plan was not terrible. Once he had the Pearl back they things would go according to plan. He did have an odd knack for recovering his ship. Of course, he also had an uncanny tendency to lose it…

"Fine," Elizabeth said finally.

The serious look immediately melted from Jack's face, replaced by the smuggest expression she'd ever seen.

"Knew you'd see it my way, luv," he said cockily.

He started walking over to the area in which the last few men where signing up to join Anamaria's crew, and Elizabeth managed, through sheer force of will, to resist shooting him in the back.

"What say you, Ana?" Jack asked grandly, sidling up to the woman's side. "Are you goin' to let Ol' Jack join up?"

Anamaria gave him a look of deepest resentment.

"I'd 'ave to be mad to let the likes of you on me ship, Jack," she said bluntly.

Jack did not appear the least bit surprised by her response. In fact, he seemed to be expecting it, as he was ready with a counter argument.

"Well, luv, 'ere's the rub. Since your arrival in Tortuga las' week I've 'ad me ear to the ground. I 'eard that you lost your navigator just before you made port, and when I was chattin' it up with the crew prior to your entrance with this strapping lad—" Jack paused to gesture at Elizabeth. "—I couldn' help but notice that there's not a navigator among them. Can't very well make an expedition without a navigator, can you?" he queried.

Anamaria stared at him, her face unreadable.

"I'll remind you that I can find my way in even the cloudiest of nights. I can_sense_ the position of the stars without even looking at them," Jack continued boldly.

The man with the long scar spoke up in the crowd.

"'Ow can you do that? It's not possible!" he shouted.

Jack acknowledged him with a superior smile.

"Lad, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he declared importantly.

Anamaria took a steady breath in and let it out slowly, apparently contemplating Jack's words. Finally, she nodded.

"Fine, but only because the lad's with ye," she barked, motioning to Elizabeth over his shoulder.

"Splendid!" Jack remarked, snatching the quill from her hand and adding his name to the parchment.

He turned back to Elizabeth and offered her the quill. Elizabeth pursed her lips into a thin line and pulled it from his hand with more force than was necessary.

The quill nearly broke under the pressure Elizabeth applied when she signed her name— '_E. Turner_.'

"Welcome aboard the Enduring Dawn, gents," Anamaria announced.

A roar of approval rang out from the new crew, and Jack gleefully joined in. Elizabeth clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. This was going to be a long journey.

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End Notes: Reviews are made of happiness and puppies. Do you really want to deny the world more happiness and puppies?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Here's chapter four, in which Jack really pushes his luck.

This one is just for fun, folks. It doesn't really advance the plot much, but it's all Jack and Liz interaction and was therefore a blast to write.

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"So, you're _the_ Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Elizabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes. It was the crew's first evening aboard the Enduring Dawn and all had gathered below deck for supper. As she'd hoped, the crew accepted her disguise as a young man without question. As far as they knew, she was Eddie Turner, a sixteen-year-old boy new to life at sea. "Eddie" was currently wedged on a hard wooden bench between Jack and the pirate who asked the previous question.

"In the flesh!" Jack replied with a self-satisfied grin. "…Trevor is it?"

Trevor nodded. He had the leathery, wind-beaten face of a man twice his age, but his youthful excitement shone through his eyes, which were currently wide and fixed on Jack.

"The same Jack Sparrow who defeated an army of cursed pirates?" Trevor asked in awe, leaning in front of Elizabeth to get a better look at Jack.

"The one an' only," Jack replied.

Elizabeth saw several heads turn in Jack's direction and she braced herself for the inevitable.

"Will you tell us about it, Captain? We've asked Anamaria to tell the tale before, but she's less than eager to talk about… well, _you_," Trevor finished, glancing nervously at his captain.

There it was. Elizabeth had known it was coming. Jack absolutely _lived _for any opportunity to inflate the legend behind his name. So of course he made no effort to hide his delight at Trevor's request. Abandoning his meal, Jack leaned back from the table to address the room at large.

"So you'd like to hear the daring tale of how Captain Jack Sparrow lost the Black Pearl to the unscrupulous Hector Barbossa, only to meet with his mutinous and accursed crew ten years later and win back his ship?" Jack asked, savoring each word as it left his lips.

As a chorus of "Aye!"s rang out, Anamaria noisily pushed back her chair.

"If you'll excuse me, I've just lost me appetite," she declared.

"Didn' realize you 'ad such a delicate disposition, Captain," Jack commented innocently.

"Aye. It usually rears its ugly 'ead when somebody tries to force feed me a load of—"

"Ana!" Jack interrupted. "There are young ears present!"

To emphasize his point, Jack pressed his hands over Elizabeth's ears and shook his had chidingly at the ship's captain. The men laughed heartily. Anamaria responded by cuffing Jack on the back of the head as she passed him on her way out of the room. Jack barely flinched. Casually removing his hands from Elizabeth's ears, he went on with his act.

"I assume you all know how the story begins," Jack said, surveying his eager audience. "The Pearl was on her way to recover the legendary Aztec treasure of Isla de Muerta—"

"The Island of Death," the pirate with the black face tattoos whispered.

"Aye, excellent translating skills, mate!" Jack commended him. "As you know, I'm sure, I was approached by my treacherous first mate, who asked me to share the bearings to the island with me crew. Well of course, bein' a fair and proper captain, I agreed."

Trevor nodded enthusiastically along with a few other men in company.

"You know, then, that I soon found meself sittin' on the shore of a deserted island with naught but a pistol and a single shot, watching the slimy rat sail away with _my_ ship."

Elizabeth saw Jack's eyes change for a moment. Normally glinting with mirth or mischief, they suddenly grew cold. It was as if he was somehow seeing the Pearl sail away all over again.

"How did you get off the island?" Trevor asked, breaking Jack out of his trance.

Just like that, the sparkle was back in his eyes. Elizabeth listened with amused exasperation as he told a tale with more fantastical embellishments than the version she'd heard from Will years ago. It involved not only sea turtles, but also a friendly dolphin and an enchanted mermaid.

"And so I made me way safely back to civilization," Jack concluded. "But the same could not be said for Barbossa and his gang of traitorous swine. For while they had their treasure, they had no idea that the gold they spent with such reckless abandon was costing them more than they could ever gain."

"The curse," Trevor said breathlessly.

He had style; Elizabeth had to give him that much. She couldn't help but smile at the entranced expressions of the men surrounding them. Jack looked past Elizabeth and caught Trevor's eye. With a solemn nod, he continued.

"Aye, the curse. Imagine, if you will, bein' on the very brink of thirst and starvation but neither food nor drink can end your sufferin'. Imagine bein' consumed by lust but unable to find release. Imagine, friends, that whenever the moon's silvery beams land on your face, your flesh rots away, leavin' behind only the skeletal remains of the man you once were."

A low murmur of apprehension went through the crowd. Jack waited until it died down into an eerie silence. Even Elizabeth found herself silently reliving the terror she felt the first time she watched Barbossa's outstretched fingertips glide forward into the moonlight.

"Doesn't sound very nice at all, does it?" Jack asked cheekily, breaking the mood.

A couple of the men let out shaky laughs, trying to leave behind the unease that had momentarily overcome them.

"Sounds terrible," the man with the face tattoos agreed. "How did you defeat them and win back the Pearl?"

Jack held up a hand in admonishment.

"Let's not skip ahead," he gently rebuked the eager pirate. "The second part of our story, which begins ten years after my unwarranted and malicious marooning, all starts because of a girl."

Elizabeth felt her heart speed up. She had failed until now to appreciate just how prominent a role she would play in Jack's retelling.

"The governor's daughter! That was the lady, wasn't it, Captain?" Trevor asked.

Elizabeth bitterly wondered why Trevor needed to hear Jack's story if he seemed to know it so well.

"The governor's daughter she was," Jack said with a sly smile. "But I can assure you all that she was no lady."

Raucous laughter filled the air, and Elizabeth whipped her head to the side to fix Jack with a venomous glare.

"Confused, Eddie?" Jack asked her sweetly. "Don't worry. A few more months of pillaging and you'll have met your share of questionable women." He jerked his thumb at her and spoke to the rest of the crew as if she wasn't there. "Such an innocent young scamp. He'll learn soon enough, right gents?"

Another roar of laughter filled Elizabeth's ears, and she felt her face grow hot, not with embarrassment but with fury. So this was how Jack was going to portray her? Without fully realizing what she was doing, her hand slipped beneath the table and found Jack's thigh.

His laughter immediately ceased and he looked down at her in shock, although he was clearly amused. Elizabeth had not meant it to be an intimate gesture, but rather a warning. In an effort to wipe the smile from his lips, she dug her nails through the cotton of Jack's trousers until they found flesh.

Jack yelped, although the sound was covered by the crew's laughter. He seemed to get the hint, since he cleared his throat and continued his story without further calling her virtue into question.

She listened as he led the crew through his story. _Their_ story, she supposed, although he was unable to elaborate much on anything that happened to her when he wasn't present. He left out, for example, her entire experience being kidnapped from Port Royal and brought to Isla de Muerta. Additionally, in his version of events Will was portrayed as impetuous and naïve, foiling Jack's brilliant plans time and time again. He had just finished telling the crew about another one of Will's blunders: his hasty deal with Barbossa to let Elizabeth go free.

"Of course, the shortsighted whelp failed to stipulate when or where his dearest love should be released," Jack explained to the crew.

The men groaned, and Elizabeth felt her ire rise in defense of her husband.

"So out goes the plank, and off goes said damsel and yours truly. An' the only spot of land to swim to was none other than the very same island on which I'd been marooned a decade before."

Some of the crew swore under their breath. Others shook their heads in commiseration. Jack gave them time to register their sympathy before he went on.

"So there we were; the roguish pirate captain and the fiery young maid wearing naught but a thin shift, _alone_ on the same deserted island."

Elizabeth froze as the implications of his phrasing hit her. It hit the crew at the same moment, but they were not quiet in their realization.

"Bet she wasn't a maid for long!" the man with the long scar shouted with an ugly and devilish grin.

As the resulting roar of whistles and laughter escaped the crew's lips, Elizabeth snapped out of her shock. She reached out for Jack's leg once more, but he was ready for her this time. His own hand intercepted hers under the table, snatching it before she could cause him further injury with her nails. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed tight enough that she could not remove her hand from his grip.

Unable to rely on discreet violence to silence him, Elizabeth spoke up for the first time since Jack began his tale.

"Surely she remained true to the blacksmith," Elizabeth said over the catcalls of the crew. "She was raised in proper society, after all."

The crew made their displeasure at this objection known with a chorus of boos. Elizabeth ignored them and pinned Jack with a firm but entreating gaze. It was time for him to defend her honor. Surely he had enough decency not to lie outright about this with her sitting right next to him.

"Sweet, naïve Eddie. So young. So inexperienced," Jack said patronizingly. The crew chuckled. "It doesn't matter how well the girl was raised. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate! She didn't stand a chance."

The crew cheered loudly and Elizabeth tried to wrench her hand from Jack's grasp. His hold was firm, however, and she succeeded only in banging their clasped hands against the underside of the table. Luckily, the motion went unnoticed by the crew, who might have found it a bit suspicious that Jack Sparrow was secretly holding hands with a young boy under their dinner table.

"On our first night alone, I started a roaring fire on the beach. But its warmth wasn't enough for this insatiable lass, was it?" Jack asked.

A chorus of "No!"s erupted from the crowd. Jack grinned, ignoring (or perhaps enjoying) the way that Elizabeth was still struggling to free herself from his grasp.

"Dear Miss Swann sidles up to Ol' Jack like…"

Jack paused for a moment, trying to find the proper words to describe what Elizabeth had supposedly done. After a moment, he turned to Elizabeth as if she'd just presented him with a fascinating idea.

"Eddie, surely you wouldn't mind playing the role of the passionate damsel for my demonstration, would you lad?" he asked pleasantly.

A few men, Trevor included, snickered good-naturedly at the thought of this prepubescent teenager playing a lady.

"I don't think—" Elizabeth began to grit out, but before she could finish Jack had slipped his hand out of hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm not pickin' on you for bein'… _underdeveloped_, I assure you, boy. You'll soon be able to grow whiskers with the best of us," he pretended to reassure her, stroking his own beard with his free hand. "You just happen to be the closest body."

Realizing that fighting Jack would only unnecessarily raise suspicions, Elizabeth permitted him to tug her close until her head fell against his chest. She pursed her lips and looked up to the ceiling, silently praying to some unseen power to give her the strength to make it through this without killing the man beside her.

"Much obliged," Jack whispered in her ear. She let out an involuntary huff, but restrained herself from doing anything further. With her body nestled into the space between his arm and his chest and her head resting beneath his collarbone, she was unable to see his face, but she knew that he was smirking.

"As I was sayin'," Jack continued loudly enough for the crew to hear. "She rests her head on me chest and looks up at me with tha' innocent longin' in her eyes."

He tilted his head down and addressed her again.

"Now lad, if you'll play the role properly. The girl was gazin' up at me," he said expectantly.

He paused and waited for her to comply. Stiffly, Elizabeth tilted her chin up until her eyes met his. As she'd expected, they were positively sparkling with amusement. She made her displeasure known with a firmly furrowed brow.

"So overcome with lust was she that I thought she might faint straight away," Jack continued.

He was speaking to the crew, but his eyes were still fixed on her. Taunting her. Daring her to contradict him. Elizabeth couldn't help herself any longer.

"It's a wonder that your breath didn't accomplish that first," she hissed.

The crew chuckled, but to her dismay Jack did the same. Her head bounced on his chest a bit as he laughed.

"Ah, Eddie, I wouldn't expect a strapping young lad such as yourself to understand the effect that Captain Jack Sparrow can have on the ladies. But I can assure you, the beautiful Miss Swann had no qualms tha' night."

The man with the face tattoo let out an appreciative whistle, and Jack chuckled again before continuing his tale.

"So then Miss Swann turns to me and she says …"

Jack paused for a moment.

"Well, Eddie, if you wouldn't mind deliverin' the dialogue so long as you're playin' the part so well already," he said, his smile promising trouble.

Jack leaned in close, and Elizabeth felt the hair of his beard against her cheek. When he whispered the words that she was to repeat, all thoughts of maintaining the illusion of her disguise flew from her mind.

"I will _not_!" she exclaimed.

She attempted to pull away, but Jack gripped her tighter.

"Come now, boy. It's all in fun," Jack announced.

Some of the crew laughed and offered 'Eddie' words of encouragement and promises that the display would not be held against him.

"Wouldn't want to cause a fuss, darlin'," Jack whispered.

Elizabeth clenched her fists so tightly that she nearly drew blood from her palms. Then, looking at him with a glare that promised retribution, she determinedly kept her voice in a disinterested monotone as she recited her line.

"Captain Sparrow, it's so dreadfully lonely on this isle. Can you offer me no comfort on this frightful night?"

The crowd exploded in approval.

"I won't make you demonstrate what happened next, Eddie," Jack said suggestively.

Perhaps Jack had realized that he'd pushed his luck about as far as it would take him tonight, for he loosened his hold on Elizabeth and allowed her to pull away. She did so with a violent jerk, and continued to glower at him as he addressed the crew once more.

"As I'm sure you can imagine, mates, I couldn't very well refuse such a desperate plea from so lovely a girl."

Elizabeth could not hear the delight of Jack's audience over the deep roar of blood pounding in her ears.

"I'll leave the gory details to your imaginations," Jack continued, much to the dismay of the crew. "Skippin' along, the next morning…"

Elizabeth barely listened to the rest of the tale. Her thoughts were centered only on what retribution would suit Jack's transgression. She invented a hundred possibilities, imagining each in great detail.

She considered simply slapping him, but he would expect that, of course. She deliberated coming up with some way of embarrassing him in front of the crew, but he was infuriatingly difficult to embarrass. She could deliver some sort of scathing diatribe against him, but he would probably just twist it around into a warped compliment.

It seemed to Elizabeth that Jack would be expecting a heated and hysterical response. Indeed, the sight of her confronting him, flustered and enraged, would most likely bring him delight rather than regret. No, the best response would be strong, composed, and to the point.

Apparently she had spent more time ruminating on her reprisal than she realized, because the next thing Elizabeth knew, the entire crew was applauding.

"So I escaped the hangman's noose, and swam to the Pearl, where I was pulled on deck by me newly faithful crew. And I sailed off into the horizon."

Jack finished on a wistful note, staring off into the darkened corners of the Enduring Dawn to relive the moment.

"And what of Davy Jones?" Trevor asked. "Folks are saying that you defeated him."

Jack surveyed his audience carefully, giving everyone a cunning smile that told them all that not only was this rumor true, but that there was an equally fantastic story behind it.

"Aye, that I did," he admitted. "But I think I've talked enough for one evening. Tha' tale is a long one, and it's best saved for another night."

Trevor's smile faded, but only for a moment. Soon everyone was talking at once, some leaving the table to discuss at length the story they had just heard, others staying back to finish the food on their plates as they chatted.

Elizabeth slowly turned to face Jack, her expression void of the anger she was sure he'd been expecting. Jack smiled and tilted his head to the side.

"Now then, that was fun, wasn't it? You didn't take any of it too personally, I hope," he said quietly enough that only she could hear him.

"Quite the contrary, Jack," Elizabeth said with all the confidence she could muster. "I found it to be such a fanciful work of fiction that I could scarcely recognize myself in it."

Jack seemed a bit taken aback by her dismissive response.

"Aye, well… Glad to hear it," he said cautiously.

Elizabeth stood, carefully extricating herself form the table.

"I'm off to see if there's anything Anamaria needs before I turn in," she said casually.

Before leaving, however, she brought her lips down so that they hovered an inch from Jack's ear.

"Oh, and Jack?" she whispered. "If your next storytelling venture is as creative with the character of Miss Swann as this one was, the fingernails that were digging into your thigh will find their target a few inches below your belt. And instead of fingernails, it'll be my knife."

She pulled away to see him frown in a manner that communicated either confusion or alarm. Either way, she was satisfied.

"Savvy?" she added in a louder tone of voice.

Jack turned and met her gaze with a smile. If she didn't know better, she'd say he looked almost proud.

"Entirely," he replied.

And with that, she left.

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End Notes: Nine out of ten doctors recommend reviewing my fic! And that statistic was not at all invented in my head… Click that little button!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Okay folks, it's time to clear up a couple of things. Two reviewers brought up excellent points, and it's only fair for me to clear them up (Seriously, thanks guys!). If you don't really care for semantics, feel free to skip on down to the actually story.

A reviewer named Pepper said "you do know that lizzie HAD to have had her son rite? after the credits in at worlds end, she is walking to shore after 10 years, with Will the 3rd."

Yes, I do know that. I guess I should have made that clear from the start—I'm going AU from what happened after the credits. (Because, ew) So in this story, Elizabeth did _not_ get pregnant at the end of AWE.

And thanks to howlongmustiwait who said, "Just to clarify the curse thing - according to the pamphlet released with the DVD by Disney, Will is bound to the Dutchman for eternity. It does not matter what Lizzie does. He gets one day on land every ten years. That's it."

So, of course, I checked Wikipedia (which is, sadly, my main source of knowledge), and this is what it had to say in its entry on Will Turner:

"_It is a matter of some debate what happens next. According to the DVD booklet Will is now permanently bound to the Flying Dutchman except for one day every ten years. Since the writers and director were not involved in this, it may be considered apocryphal._

_The writers instead have affirmed that Will will be freed from the Flying Dutchman's curse after ten years if Elizabeth is faithful to him. Since she remains faithful to him, he is freed of the curse and allowed to return to the world of the living, (as opposed to Davy Jones, who remained tied to the ship because Tia Dalma was not faithful)."_

So, I've decided that I'm going with the writers, since I'll take their word over the word of a random dude who wrote the DVD insert. Plus, my heart absolutely breaks to think that Will would be stuck on the Dutchman for eternity. Therefore, in my story, Will can be freed in ten years if Elizabeth is waiting faithfully for him.

"But wait! This story is Sparrabeth!" you cry! Indeed it is. Wait and see, friends. I've got me a plan.

PHEW!

And now, on with the story. Another long chapter!

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The crew inundated Jack with questions as they went about their daily chores the next morning. In his glory, the captain acquiesced to relating endless tales of adventure and debauchery on the high seas. However it seemed that Elizabeth's threat was enough to keep him on his best behavior, at least for the time being, because when asked to relate the story of his battle with Davy Jones he would simply say that such a tale could only be told at the proper time and place and that the current setting was neither.

So the day passed relatively free of incident, although not without struggle. Elizabeth's few months back in high society had not served her well. Her formerly calloused hands were soft and prone to bleeding when she climbed the ship's rigging, and her muscles had lost their tone, leaving her with pain that she was certain would become a persistent ache in the days to follow.

Not keen on listening to Jack's stories, she spent the majority of her time shadowing the man with the black face tattoos. As the ship's boatswain, he did not have time to sit around listening to Jack's stories all day. He was called Ham (short for Hamilton, she was told when she asked), and despite his somewhat fearsome appearance, he was a surprisingly friendly chap.

About ten minutes had passed since she helped Ham adjust the rigging for the mainsail when Elizabeth found herself distracted. Dob, the sailor with the scar running from his fingertips to his forehead was standing several yards away. From the moment she saw him in Tortuga she'd wondered how on earth he'd received such a terrible disfigurement. She hadn't dared to ask him, since he seemed easily agitated and far from friendly.

"It's not polite to stare, Ed," said a voice very close to her ear.

Elizabeth spun around to see Ham eyeing her with a gentle but warning smile. Elizabeth blushed for being caught, but her curiosity got the better of her and she could not help the question that escaped her lips.

"Do you know how it happened?" she asked.

Ham guessed immediately to what she was referring. He followed her eye line and nodded knowingly.

"It's a beaut, innit?" he commented, tilting his head to the side as he examined the scar himself. "I 'eard 'im ravin' about it in Tortuga after too many glasses of ale. A lady of ill repute gave 'im tha' as a parting gift," he replied.

"A prostitute?" Elizabeth gasped. "How did she manage to get him so badly?"

When Ham looked back at Elizabeth, she saw in his eyes the same look of delight that she saw in Jack's when he was telling a story of interest.

"She was a crafty lass," he grinned. "She offered Dob 'er services. Planned to rob 'im blind in the night and leave before he woke... but he woke too soon."

Ham raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"So she did _that_ to him?" Elizabeth said in a hushed exclamation.

Ham grinned once more.

"Well, he tried to do_ tha'_ to 'er, but she grabbed 'old of 'is knife and fought 'im tooth an' nail. Apparently, judgin' by the outcome, she got the upper 'and," he mused.

"So she did it to him with his own knife?" Elizabeth marveled.

"An' got away wi' the loot too," Ham added with a look of distinct admiration. "It's no wonder he 'ates women, really."

Well, _this _was news, and confusing news at that.

"But he's sailing under Anamaria," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Needs must when the devil drives," Ham remarked, shrugging indifferently. "A man will do what he 'as to in order to make a livin' Ed."

Elizabeth stared once more at the long, jagged scar. She felt a chill run down her spine.

"Anyway, lad, I didn' seek ye out for a round o' storytellin'," Ham said, breaking her train of thought.

Elizabeth looked abashed to be caught staring again. She muttered an apology but was cut off by Ham.

"I didn' come to chide ye for starin' neither," he hastened to explain. "Sparrow wants ye."

Elizabeth frowned, wondering what Jack could possibly want. Nevertheless she nodded and started for the captain's cabin, which was where Jack had decided his navigational headquarters would be located (much to the chagrin of the Dawn's _actual_ captain).

"Ah, Elizabeth!" Jack greeted her boisterously when she set foot in the cabin.

Elizabeth's eyes flew wide open and she quickly slammed the door shut behind her. Jack seemed confused at her reaction when spun around to pin him with a warning look.

"Did you _want_ to alert the entire crew as to my true name?" she asked pointedly.

Jack cringed and managed to look apologetic.

"Sorry, luv," he said quickly. Then he paused and gave her a searching look. "Why is it tha' you need to maintain this disguise again? I mean, wha' with Ana bein' captain an' all, I figure you'd be 'appy to dispense with the pirate act and go back to playin' a proper lady."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and laughed lightly.

"I think you know better than most, Jack, that I'm more pirate than damsel these days," she said wryly.

Jack grinned back. It was the first true smile the two had shared since their reunion in Tortuga, and Elizabeth was surprised to realize that it actually felt quite nice. Comfortable. Normal.

"Aye, truer words were never spoken," Jack replied.

"Why did you call for me?" she asked, snapping out of the pleasantness of the moment.

He gestured for her to come around the table at which he was standing. When she did she saw a map spread out on its surface. Jack was apparently tracking the ship's course on it, judging from the series of Xs trailing northwest from a dot on the map labeled 'Tortuga.'

"Is this where we are?" she questioned, pointing to the last X inked on the map.

"That's where Anamaria _thinks_ we are. We are _actually_ here," Jack said, planting an ink-spattered finger an inch north of the mark.

Elizabeth looked up at Jack from under a furrowed brow.

"You're lying to the ship's captain about our location?" she asked flatly.

Jack spread his arms wide as if he was awaiting some sort of congratulations.

"That's right, luv. Ol' Cap'n Jack 'as 'ad a plan all along," he said proudly.

Elizabeth sighed.

"I'm afraid to ask, but what exactly does your plan entail?"

"So glad you asked, Lizzie dear!" Jack exclaimed.

He shifted closer next to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. Elizabeth resisted shrugging him off and resigned herself to letting Jack explain his alleged genius.

"Anamaria wants to 'ead to Havana. We want to intercept the Pearl," Jack explained as if this was news to Elizabeth.

"Yes, and how exactly are we going to drift far enough north to reach the Pearl without the captain or crew noticing?" Elizabeth asked skeptically.

"We're miles off course now an' no one's noticed," Jack reminded her.

Elizabeth gave him a disbelieving smile.

"Yes, but when land appears to our north rather than our south, I think it might tip a few people off that we've hit Florida instead of Cuba," she informed him.

Jack gave her a grin that suggested that Elizabeth was woefully misinformed and that he was about to take great pleasure in enlightening her.

"Who said anything about Florida, luv?" he asked.

Elizabeth pulled away, confused, and Jack let his arm drop from her shoulders.

"That's where the Fountain of Youth is," she said, waiting for him to contradict her.

"Yes, but who said the Pearl 'as reached it yet?" Jack asked.

He looked very smug. This annoyed Elizabeth greatly.

"How long ago did Barbossa maroon you in Tortuga?" she asked directly.

The smug look was quickly replaced by a pained wince and then a deep frown. Straightening up, Jack made his reply.

"Barbossa, _the rotting pile of putrescent feces_, robbed me of my ship a little over three weeks ago."

Ignoring his elaborate language, Elizabeth cut to the chase.

"Jack, it takes four days in good weather, a week in bad, to reach Florida from Tortuga. Why wouldn't Barbossa be there already?"

"Barbossa, _steaming lump of odious excrement_, would've wanted to take a grand tour of the Caribbean before settin' 'is sights on a treasure so great as the Fountain of Youth," Jack declared.

He stopped and leaned toward her as if he was about to impart a deep secret.

"In case you 'aven't noticed, he doesn't 'ave the best record when it comes to successfully huntin' down treasure," he said.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to point out that Jack's record was not much better. Before the whole mess with Davy Jones, he'd managed to get his crew nearly killed in a hurricane and failed to deliver so much as a hint of gold.

"As such," Jack continued, oblivious to Elizabeth's inner thoughts. "He'd want to ensure that 'is men's pockets were lined with plenty o' gold and plunder before attemptin' such a large undertakin'—just in case it's a failure."

It was a sound plan; Elizabeth had to admit that. Jack went on.

"Barbossa's many things; a vile rat, a villainous thief, a backstabbing wretch, a—"

"Jack," Elizabeth interrupted.

Jack's face had become twisted with loathing as he listed off insults. He quickly recovered, however, and went on.

"Well, you get the point. He's a lot of things, but stupid is not one of 'em. Unfortunately," he added as an afterthought.

Something seemed to occur to him all of a sudden, for his eyes grew dark and a scowl crossed his features.

"Of course it's also possible he just wants to flaunt the fact tha' he 'as the Pearl again. He'd want to roll out the guns and attack any and every ship in reach just to affirm 'is newly regained _ascendancy_."

Elizabeth was about to call Jack's name again to snap him out of his sudden funk, but he did it himself. In a flash his customary good cheer was back.

"But more likely, he's still sailing because he's not quite sure where to land," he said cheerfully.

He began shuffling through the maps strewn across the table until he pulled out a circular piece of aged parchment. Elizabeth examined it. It was the center of Sao Feng's map, the one that she and Barbossa had retrieved to guide them to world's end. It appeared as though Jack had cut the center of the map out and left Barbossa with its useless border.

As inept as Jack was at keeping his ship, things were never made easy for his mutineers. The first time it was an Aztec curse, and now the Pearl's crew would have no clear idea of where to go once they reached Florida. Smiling a bit at this thought, Elizabeth did not notice when Jack pulled his compass from his belt. Suddenly, he was waving the object in her face.

"Plus, the needle on this little contraption 'ere keeps moving in ways tha' don't match up with the way _we're_ moving on this ship, which means that the Pearl isn't sittin' still. And I doubt very much tha' would be the case if she was beached somewhere in Florida," he added helpfully.

Elizabeth sighed in exasperation.

"Why didn't you say that in the first place?" she asked.

Jack grinned as he replied.

"Now Lizzie, where's the fun in that?"

Elizabeth ignored him and turned her attention back to the compass.

"How can you be sure that it's pointing towards the Pearl?" she asked.

Jack nodded, apparently deeming her question a good one.

"I'll admit, it'll be egg on my face if we wind up catchin' up to a merchant vessel full of rum 'stead of the Pearl, but then I think the crew might forgive me still."

Elizabeth tried (and failed) to resist smiling once more at the image Jack presented. She was torn abruptly from such entertaining thoughts by Jack's next request.

"Actually, that's why I called you in 'ere," he said. "Just wanted to double check our heading."

With that, he thrust the compass at her. Elizabeth observed the object as though it might bite her. Jack forced it into her hands before she could muster enough sense to pull her palms away.

Her fingers trailed over its wooden cover, but she didn't open it. She did not have good luck with this compass. What if…

_What if it points to _him_. With him standing right here. No. Why should it point to him now? Before… _that_ was understandable. _

She'd had time to rationalize it all. The compass had only pointed to Jack before because of some lingering attachment to the legend of _Captain Jack Sparrow_, some shred of awe at his myth. By now she was completely disillusioned when it came to pirates. Therefore she had nothing to worry about. Right?

She peered up at Jack to find him examining her with amused interest. Was he hoping for the very thing that she was dreading?

_No. I want to find Will. Everything in my life depends on it. And to find Will, I must first find the Pearl. The thing I want most is the Pearl._

She squeezed her eyes shut at the same moment that she flipped the compass open. After taking a deep breath, she slowly peeked out from under her right eyelid.

The needle was pointing at Jack.

_DAMN IT!_

"It's broken!" Elizabeth hissed, trying to ignore the self-satisfied smirk evident on Jack's face.

"Don't think so, luv," Jack said softly.

He chuckled, and Elizabeth glared at him. Then he started to move away from her. He made a slow and, as far as Elizabeth could tell, unnecessary circle around the table before coming to a halt on the exact opposite side of her.

"See, Lizzie. No worries," he whispered in her ear.

She frowned, unable to discern his meaning until she glanced back down at the compass. Its needle had not moved; it continued to point to the spot that Jack had recently vacated.

_It was all a coincidence,_ she thought, relieved.

Jack had been standing in the exact direction that the ship was heading. Judging by his smirk, he'd known it too. Elizabeth shot him a look that told him she was not amused.

"Well, this is lovely! We're righ' on course," Jack said, unmoved by Elizabeth's threatening glower.

He snatched the compass out of her hands and reattached it to his belt.

"Wonderful. So we're going to meet up with the Pearl and do what?" Elizabeth asked bluntly.

"Well, Barbossa will no doubt be more than happy attack this beautiful vessel," Jack said pleasantly.

Elizabeth froze.

"You're going to lead the Dawn directly into the path of a ruthless and aggressive pirate captain with the hope that he'll attack?" she asked incredulously.

Jack appeared contemplative for a moment.

"Pretty much, yeah," he finally said, grinning.

Elizabeth shook her head.

"Anamaria will kill you if you endanger her ship."

Jack waved his hands dismissively.

"That's why neither of us will be telling her about our slightly different course, will we? She won't know a thing until it's too late. We'll scurry across to the Pearl in the ensuing scuffle, I'll kill Barbossa again, we'll sweet talk the crew, and then off we go to see dear William!"

She stared at him. He said it all so simply, as if it was already a done deal. She decided against attacking his plan because of it's implausibility, and instead reminded him of the more immediate danger associated with his actions.

"This is technically breaking the fourth rule of the Dawn's articles. You're betraying the crew by knowingly leading them into danger. This is a marooning offense."

Again, Jack seemed deeply unconcerned.

"Aye, an' it's all the more reason for you to keep that charming mouth shut, because if I'm marooned, you're coming along, luv."

Elizabeth almost gasped aloud. She had forgotten that little caveat in their contract. Why had she agreed to bind herself to him until they reached the Pearl?

She considered being marooned with Jack again.

"Chances are there wouldn't be a cache of combustible liquids at our disposal this time," she mused.

Jack let out an injured grunt, and when Elizabeth looked at him, he appeared honestly pained.

"Don't remind me of tha'," he moaned. "It still 'urts to think of all that beautiful rum—gone."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes once more, but she could not help smiling for a third time in so many minutes.

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There was no shortage of rum on the Dawn, Elizabeth learned this soon enough. That night a barrel of the stuff was hauled up from below deck and planted by the mainmast, where any and all could freely partake of it. And partake they did.

The men gathered on deck for an evening of revelry that would have put any pub in Tortuga to shame. Music was provided by a pair of red-haired crewmen (brothers, by the looks of them) who played a fiddle and a wooden flute. The rest of the crew alternated between telling ribald tales, engaging in rousing games of dice, or singing and generally falling over each other.

Elizabeth stayed away from the mainmast, preferring to lounge on the quarterdeck with Ham and the ship's doctor, an older gent named Lou. Elizabeth would wager quite confidently that Lou had never cracked a smile in his life. The man's face did not change its bland expression, just as his calm voice never wavered in tone or volume. Together the two made for quiet company, which Elizabeth appreciated amidst the madness buzzing about the rest of the ship.

She was currently lying on her back on the deck while Ham and Lou sat a few feet away discussing a hurricane that had blown through two months earlier. She stared up at the stars and wondered if Will was doing the same. She considered the possibility that their eyes might land on the same exact star at the same precise moment, and if they did, she wondered if she would somehow know. Maybe she would feel a sudden jolt or warmth.

A long while passed this way. Her ears were filled with a strange combination of low grumbling conversation (courtesy of Ham and Lou), waves crashing against the sides of the Dawn, creaking wood, fiddle and flute, and the distant roar of the rowdy crew occasionally punctuated by a particularly loud shout.

Elizabeth was gently lulled into a pleasant trancelike state—until Anamaria suddenly appeared above her, looking irritated. Elizabeth immediate sat up and waited to hear what was wrong. She thought of Jack's plan. Had Anamaria discovered that her ship wasn't where Jack said she was?

"Wondered where you went," the captain said curtly. "Thought you'd want to know tha' Jack's up on the forecastle tellin' a very interestin' story."

Elizabeth let out a deep sigh communicating intense vexation. Ana merely shrugged in a commiserating fashion and walked away. For a moment Elizabeth debated remaining where she was since no good could come from hearing Jack's story. However, she knew that if he was telling the account she thought he was, that she had to know what he said.

She walked toward the front of the ship, and as the main deck came into full view she saw that it was mostly empty, save for a few sailors who had already passed out. Everyone else was gathered toward the ship's bow, all craning their necks to hear Jack Sparrow speak from his position at the foremast.

Elizabeth did not fight her way to the front of the crowd. She kept herself hidden in the back so that Jack would not see her there, and she listened. It appeared that he'd already gotten through much of the story, because when she finally stopped to listen he was speaking of the Kraken's vicious attack on the Pearl.

"So there I was, sittin' in tha' rowboat, with two choices. In front of me, freedom and safety in the form of Isla Cruces. Behind me, me ship and me crew about to be devoured by Davy Jones's devilish sea monster. To be a bit profound, if you'll indulge me, in front of me was life at the expense of cowardice, and behind was heroism at the expense of me life."

"What did you do?" breathed Trevor, his eyebrows drawn together in deep concern.

"Consulted me compass," Jack said simply.

At the confused stares of the men, he unclipped his compass from his belt and held it out to Trevor.

"Bartered for it ten years ago from none other than the goddess Calypso. It points not north, but to tha' which you want most in this world," Jack explained enigmatically.

"That's a great swinging lie," Dob sneered, snatching the device from Trevor.

The scarred pirate flipped open the cover and all present, save Jack and Elizabeth, crowded around to see the contraption react. Elizabeth saw more than one jaw drop as the needle spun slowly and landed on…

Trevor.

Several of the men frowned, some went wide-eyed, and one or two let out furtive chuckles and then hastily attempted to cover them up with coughs.

"I'm, uh, flattered, really," Trevor stuttered. "An' I know tha' you 'aven't 'ad much luck with the lady folk, but—"

Before he could say any more, Dob was on him. Having slipped his knife from his boot, he placed it on Trevor's bare throat. When Trevor gulped his throat rose far enough into the blade that a small trickle of blood escaped.

"Take it easy, Dob!" Ham called out from behind her.

Elizabeth turned to see that both Ham and Lou had joined the crowd. Dob glanced at Ham and reluctantly pulled the knife back.

"It's pointin' at 'im because he owes me two crowns from a game o' dice tonight," Dob growled.

Trevor's eyebrows flew up to meet his hairline in a moment of realization.

"Oh, that's right!" the young man said, gingerly rubbing his neck. "Tha' explains it then."

"My compass, if you will," Jack said, completely undisturbed by the scene that had just unfolded.

The men looked back at Jack, suddenly remembering that he was in the middle of telling a story. Dob slapped the compass into Jack's open palm with obvious irritation. Jack ignored this and waited until all the men were resettled before continuing his tale.

"As I said, I consulted me compass."

Jack waited for the inevitable question.

"What did it point to, Captain?" one of the red-haired brothers asked.

"Incredibly enough, it pointed back at the Pearl," Jack related.

"Was it the Pearl the needle pointed at, or was it the girl aboard her?" Trevor asked.

Jack frowned and his mouth fell open for a few seconds. The question had apparently taken him by surprise, as it did Elizabeth. Her first thought was that Trevor's question was absolutely ridiculous, but then…

"Ah, there's the rub," Ham murmured, observing Jack's befuddlement with keen interest.

Jack suddenly snapped out of his stupor.

"The Pearl. It was most definitely pointing at the Pearl," he said agitatedly.

His voice was firm and almost angry. No one dared to question his answer.

"So you went back to save your crew?" Trevor pressed.

"Aye, I went back," Jack said simply.

A murmur of approval went through the crowd.

Jack plowed ahead, telling the men about the shot he fired into the mass of powder and rum kegs. He described in gory detail the way that the resulting explosion tore flesh from Kraken's giant tentacles, leaving behind dozens of black-rimmed, oozing wounds that could be seen disappearing beneath ocean's the surface as the beast made its retreat.

"So you won!" the other redhead shouted happily.

Jack smiled.

"You don't think a little thing like rippin' apart some of it's slithering arms was going to keep the Kraken down, did you?" he asked the pirate.

The redhead stared back uneasily and then shook his head as if he'd been joking with his previous comment.

"O' course, we all knew that the beastie would be back. So I called for the crew to abandon ship."

Several men gasped. Ham swore under his breath.

"Everyone piled into the long boat, while I traveled the deck one last time," Jack said.

From the wistful look in his eyes, Elizabeth could tell that he was entirely elsewhere, reliving that final stroll.

"To say goodbye?" Trevor asked.

Jack considered the question.

"In a way," he said vaguely. "In any case, as I'm doin' so, who should approach, but the _lovely_ Miss Swann."

Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her throat. She wanted to flee, to run back to the quarterdeck and look at the stars. Why had she wanted to listen to this? The way he forced out the word 'lovely' was lost on all but Elizabeth. No one else knew that the word was positively dripping with sarcasm.

"What did _she_ want?" Dob muttered.

"To thank me for comin' back," Jack said, a wry smile on his lips. "She told me tha' she always knew I was a good man. An' then she kissed me."

It took a moment for the men to process what Jack had just said. Once they had, however, the air was filled with the sounds of cheers, catcalls, and whistles. Only Dob and Lou seemed unimpressed (although Lou might have been positively ecstatic, and Elizabeth would have been none the wiser).

"How was it?" Trevor shouted over the ruckus.

The crew quickly quieted, eagerly awaiting details.

Elizabeth could still hardly hear a thing, as the blood was pounding in her ears. She watched anxiously as the faraway look came back in Jack's eyes. His face was unreadable. He was neither smiling nor frowning. Finally, he spoke.

"It was… devastating," he whispered.

Elizabeth's breath hitched as she exhaled.

"The heat of her mouth, her hands grasping at mine, the force of her passion," he recalled. "I lost all track of time and space. I forgot I was on the Pearl. There was only her lips on mine."

He paused, and the wry smile was back when he spoke again.

"An' then I 'eard a click."

The men, who had been hanging onto his every word during his description of the kiss, were suddenly confused again.

"A click?" repeated the first red-haired pirate.

"Aye. A click," Jack confirmed. "She cuffed me to the mast."

Elizabeth heard two dozen men gasp simultaneously, and her stomach dropped to her toes.

"Tol' me that the beast was after me, and she 'ad to do it to save the crew," he said, still smiling exactly as he had when said those words to him, just before he called her a pirate.

"Black-hearted temptress!" Dob thundered, his face a shade of deep crimson. "All women are wanton harlots! Every one of 'em! Not one is worth the trouble!"

"I couldn't agree more, mate," Jack replied calmly. "Especially concerning the woman in question."

Elizabeth wondered if she could slip away unnoticed. Nothing good could come of her staying there. However, Jack's next statement gave her pause.

"But o' course, what the rash Miss Swann failed to realize was tha' I was already plannin' on goin' down with me ship."

Her heart stopped.

"Any good captain would," Jack continued. "All Miss Swann did was giving me a lovely parting gift," he added smugly.

The crew was clearly impressed with Jack's commitment to his ship and crew. They smiled admiringly and murmured to one another.

Elizabeth was stunned. Was he telling the truth? Why had he not told her before? Had she been carrying around that awful guilt for nothing?

However, Jack did not supply any answers for her. He moved on with the story, describing his last few moments aboard the Pearl, culminating with his being swallowed whole by the Kraken's terrifying jaws.

Elizabeth finally tore herself away. She did not want to hear about the horrors that Jack had encountered in the Locker. She did not want to relive the moment of Will's death, or the moment of his rebirth as a heartless prisoner. She only wanted to go back to the stern of the ship and lose herself in the stars.

So she did. Slipping away unnoticed, she resumed her prone position on the quarterdeck. Long after everyone else had retired for the night, she remained on deck. It was hours later when she heard the thumping of boots growing near.

"Never could handle your rum," said a familiar voice.

Elizabeth shot up into a seated position, her heart suddenly racing. Jack stood over her, grinning.

Without thinking about what she was doing, Elizabeth stood and blurted out the question that was foremost in her thoughts.

"Was that true?"

"Was what true?" he asked, bewildered.

She took three hasty strides and her face was inches from his. Jack's eyes widened at her sudden proximity.

"Were you really going to stay behind with the Pearl?" she demanded.

He arched an eyebrow, surprised.

"Ah, so you ventured up to the front of the ship for a bedtime story, did you?" he asked.

When she failed to respond, Jack tilted his head to the side, considering her question. He stuck out his lower lip and squinted down at her before replying.

"What do you _want_ to believe?" he said finally.

Before she could respond, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and continued to speak as if imparting helpful advice to an old friend.

"Because all tha' really matters is the truth you _choose_ to believe. For example, I _choose_ to believe that I'm the most fearsome pirate in the Caribbean, and therefore I am."

The casual lilting rhythm of his speech did not fool her. He was spouting tripe in order to avoid her question.

"It doesn't work like that," she said, calmly lifting his hand from her shoulder and dropping it so that it fell by his side.

Undeterred, Jack smiled and persevered.

"Doesn't it? If I didn't believe I was the greatest, I most definitely would _not_ have become the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow, now would I?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips. She watched him stroll triumphantly over to the starboard side of the stern and drum his fingers absently on the railing. She could not refute his statement, but he was still avoiding the matter at hand.

"You didn't answer my question," she accused.

Jack pointed at her with the hand that Elizabeth had just removed from her shoulder.

"Correct!" he happily exclaimed. "I cleverly sidestepped it by declaring it irrelevant."

He grinned. Elizabeth plowed ahead.

"Were you going to stay with the ship even if I didn't chain you to it?" she repeated.

Jack was still smiling, but he was looking at her with that calculating curiosity that told her she was not about to get a satisfactory response.

"What do you _want_ the answer to be, Elizabeth?" he purred.

"I want an honest answer, whatever it may be," she said firmly.

Jack let out a small chuckle and turned away to gaze out at the ocean, his elbows resting on the wooden banister.

"No, you don't," he muttered.

When he turned back to her, he seemed agitated. As he spoke he began to slowly advance on her.

"You want me to say yes," he continued. "Because _if_ I was going to bravely remain aboard and distract the beastie to spare the lives of me helpless crew, then you didn't really do anythin' wrong. Did you?"

"I want the truth," she maintained, refusing to show an ounce of trepidation at his approach.

He took slow but purposeful steps, slinking toward her like a predator in pursuit of prey. He did not stop until the tip of his boots met hers. When he leaned forward and opened his mouth, she could see every single gold tooth in perfect detail.

"No," he said tauntingly.

Elizabeth jerked backward and let out an angry sigh. Why did he insist on avoiding such a simple question?

"Why won't you just tell me—"

But Jack cut her off before she could finish the question.

"_No_, I wasn't going to stay behind. I was goin' to hop directly into tha' longboat with the rest of you and move as fast as the oars could take me, possibly pushing one or two of you overboard to increase our speed if need be."

Elizabeth found herself floundering with her mouth still hanging halfway open.

"You're just saying that," she stuttered desperately.

Jack smiled.

"Why would I lie?" he asked.

Elizabeth frowned. He_ had_ to be lying. He'd returned to the Pearl, hadn't he? He could have abandoned them all to the Kraken, but he returned. It was entirely possible that he would have stayed. He just didn't_want_ her to be freed from her guilt. Yes, that was it.

"You want to upset me," she said weakly.

She mustered all of the confidence she could and continued.

"You want me to think that you aren't a good man, Jack, but you are."

She looked challengingly at him. She was right. She knew it. Jack did not step back, but rather leaned closer, a huge smile gracing his lips.

"Still under that delusion, are we? That's endearing," he quipped.

Unshaken, Elizabeth prepared to present her evidence.

"You've had moments of—"

Only to be immediately cut off by Jack.

"Of what?" he scoffed. "Of goodness? Bravery? Heroism?" he asked mockingly. "Allow me to recap for you those moments."

He began listing them off, holding up his index finger to mark the first.

"Over a decade ago, I, in a moment of fairness, agree to share with me crew the bearings to Isla de Muera. In return, I get marooned."

Elizabeth watched him hold up a second finger as he continued. He began moving in a slow circle around her as he spoke.

"I, in a moment of compassion, turn around and row back to _save_ me crew from the almost certain death at the hands—er, tentacle… thingies of the Kraken. In return, I _receive_ almost certain death through the treachery of… who was it again?"

He paused, giving Elizabeth time to respond. She fought to keep her face completely neutral. When Jack realized that she was not going to answer, he smiled (_smiled_!) and continued to circle her as he held up a third finger.

"I, in a moment of forgiveness, allow me mutinous former first mate back in me crew. In return, I get marooned _again_."

He fairly shouted the last word, stomping hurriedly to finish his final revolution around her until they were once again standing face-to-face. His expression lacked the minutest sign of amusement when he spoke again.

"Those weren't instances of goodness, Mrs. Turner," he scoffed. "They were moments of stupidity. And I don't plan on wastin' any more of my time on such endeavors."

He broke away from her, returning to the starboard railing. Elizabeth was stunned. Even when he'd registered the click of the manacles around his wrists just before she left him to die, Jack had a smile on his face. Perhaps the only other moment she had seen him so thoroughly undone was on that damned island when he revealed that his great escape from marooning amounted to a rum-soaked three-day vacation.

No, this wasn't Jack at all. This was a frustrated man saying things he did not mean. He would soon be Jack again. This was a fleeting slip in character.

Elizabeth cautiously approached him. She rested a wary hand on the banister, inches from his own, and found her voice.

"Being a good man does not always result in misfortune," she said.

His eyes found hers and she saw that the smile was back, but it was full of malice.

"No? How about one last example, then?" he said dangerously.

He could not completely circle her, as she was leaning against the edge of the ship, but he nevertheless began a slow semicircle, holding up four fingers.

"A young man, a new husband, fights to free his dear father from Davy Jones. In return, he winds up bound to the Flying Dutchman, ripped from his young wife, and doomed to sail the seas ushering the dead to the next world."

As he spoke the last few words he reached the end of his semi-circle, stopping directly behind Elizabeth. She had remained ramrod straight as he moved. She would not cry. She would not react at all, despite feeling as though she'd just been knocked to the ground.

She was facing away from him, but she felt him lean in. His breath disturbed the short hair by her left ear as he spoke.

"Bein' a good man gets you nothin', Lizzie. It's bein' a pirate that gets you the spoils."

Elizabeth could no longer remain impassive. He was lying! He was putting on a front because he did not want her to be right, but she _knew_ that he was a good man. It was in his nature to do the right thing when confronted with an important decision, even though he might occasionally fight that instinct.

"On the Pearl, I gave you the chance—" she blurted out, before stopping herself. She closed her eyes, knowing that he could not see her face, and composed herself before continuing.

"I told you that you were too good a man to compromise my honor," she said.

She paused, and she knew that he was remembering that moment—how close their lips came to touching; the way his hand danced an inch from her hair, almost burying his fingers in her tresses to pull nearer still and close that infinitesimal gap.

"And you pulled away," she said proudly, unable to stop the slight smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. He was a good man.

Jack's low chuckle surprised her, and she finally spun around to face him. His entire face was the picture of mirth. He looked like she'd just told him a particularly funny joke.

At her questioning stare, he leaned close, as if he was about to let her in on the punch line.

"I'll have you know tha' I was perfectly prepared to compromise the _hell _out of your honor," he assured her. "It just so happened that the damned Black Spot returned to eat away at my palm at the very same moment, and the sight of it didn't exactly put me in the mood. _That's_ why I pulled back."

If it was possible, his smile grew even wider at the sight of her surprise.

"But by all means, luv, if you _choose_ to believe tha' I would have turned away out of some long buried sense of propriety, I won't stop you," he added, spreading his arms wide.

Elizabeth could not respond. She'd just had the rug pulled out from under her. She based so much on the fact that he'd resisted her advances that day. It was the evidence she needed to justify her believing in him. Her belief was shaken when she saw him rowing away on the Kraken, but then he'd come back.

_Yes, he came back_, she said to herself.

He could say that he wouldn't have pulled away had it not been for the Black Spot. He could deny that he would have stayed on the Pearl had she not chained him to the mast. But he could not deny that he rowed back to the Pearl when safety was only a few strokes away. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he _was_ a good man.

She had no idea why it was so important to her to confirm this. Maybe it was just that with Will gone and her father dead, she needed the one last familiar face in her world to be someone whom she could trust.

"I don't believe you," she said weakly, knowing that her words sounded desperate.

"Oh really? Well then tell me, Mrs. Turner, since you're so eager to uncover the truth, what do I 'ave to do to convince you?" Jack asked.

He did not give her a chance to reply, which was fine because Elizabeth could not think of anything to say. His eyes lit up and she could tell that some wicked thought had just entered his brain.

Suddenly his hands were on her shoulders and her back was pressed roughly against the railing.

"Jack!" she gasped.

For half a second she considered the possibility that he was going to push her overboard. She dug in her heels and her hands shot up to push against Jack's chest. Jack laughed quietly and his hands slipped from her shoulders to her wrists, forcing her arms back down to her sides.

"I'm a pirate, Lizzie," he said matter-of-factly. "And you know our motto."

She gasped again as he moved impossibly closer, one of his boots sliding between her own so that their legs were intertwined.

"Take what you can," he whispered.

He released her wrists, but their bodies were so close that Elizabeth was unable to bring her palms up between them to push him away. His hands found a new home, one splayed across her shoulder blades and the other gently gripping the base of her neck.

He inched his face forward until his lips were so close that she felt their phantom pressure on her own.

"Give nothin' back," he finished.

Some part of her knew that it was coming, but she was entirely unprepared for the sensation of his lips on hers. She struggled to push him away, but her hands could reach nothing except for the tails of his jacket. With the hand on the back of her neck holding her lips firmly against his, she could do nothing but close her eyes and wait for him to release her.

It was no gentle kiss. Jack was trying prove a point; that he would not hesitate to take what he wanted, when he wanted it, regardless of the consequences.

His soft lips moved rhythmically against her own, while his beard scraped lightly against her face. She remembered the contrasting sensations from their last kiss. What she did not remember was the feeling of him teasing her lower lip with his teeth, largely because he hadn't done it the last time. Suddenly, he bit down, and she let out an involuntary yelp. Before the sound could escape, however, his lips were back on hers and his tongue invaded her mouth. She gasped at the intrusion and he took further advantage, deepening the kiss to a point that surpassed anything she had ever experienced. He was devouring her.

Elizabeth's stomach was a taut web of knots, her heart pounding a relentless staccato rhythm that reverberated throughout her entire body.

A loud shattering sound filled her ears, and she and Jack both drew apart instantaneously, whipping their heads around to locate its source.

"Sorry! Don't worry—I mean, I didn't see—That is to say—Carry on!"

It was Trevor. Elizabeth's eyes grew wide as she registered the sight before her. Trevor scrambled backward until his back hit the railing on the port side of the stern, his mouth falling open and slamming shut like a dying fish. She noticed that at his feet was a gleaming puddle peppered with shards of glass. The young man must have taken to the decks for a bit more to drink and upon seeing Captain Jack Sparrow lip locked with a teenaged boy, dropped his bottle in shock.

Before either of them could attempt to explain, Trevor was stumbling back from whence he came, looking every bit as terrified as if he'd seen the Kraken itself. Trevor disappeared, leaving Jack and Elizabeth alone once more.

Elizabeth was still staring after Trevor, her heart racing as quickly as her mind, when she heard Jack speak.

"Well, I 'ave to say, this kiss ended only slightly better than our last one."

She felt her face screw up into a mask of confusion, not only at what he said, but also at the perfectly calm and casual manner in which he said it. She was too bewildered to do anything but gape at him. Upon seeing her perplexity, Jack continued.

"Tha' was one part of my legend tha' I wasn't particularly keen on encouragin'," he explained.

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End Notes: Holy Moses, that was a long chapter!

Please review. Seriously. It makes my _**life**_. And it's oh so easy.

See that button down there? Yeah, lower left. It says "Go." Give it a little click! You'll feel better for it, I promise. It was in the New England Journal of Medicine. Somewhere. Just take my word for it.


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